


whatever you like

by PaintedVanilla



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Pet Names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 10:38:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20113750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaintedVanilla/pseuds/PaintedVanilla
Summary: Crowley has a question for his angel.





	whatever you like

Sunlight comes filtering in through the edges of the curtains, and Crowley attempts to dodge it by burying his face further into Aziraphale’s side. He’s awake, now, though; dozing, still, somewhat, but aware of his breathing and the warm body laying next to him.

He sighs, and stretches, and groans, yawning and pressing his body right against his angels. He noses at his shoulder, admiring how peaceful he looks when he sleeps, how handsome he is. 

Crowley leans up and presses a kiss to Aziraphale’s neck, then another to the space just under his ear. “Angel...” he murmurs, and Aziraphale stirs and shifts, pulling him impossibly closer.

Crowley happily accepts the new arrangement, practically laying on top of him, waking Aziraphale with kisses peppered to his face. “Angel... sweetheart... my one and only...”

A small smile graces Aziraphale’s lips. “Yes, my dear?” he asks sleepily.

Crowley grins and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, then shifts to whisper in his ear. “May I take you on a date, my sweet?”

Aziraphale is quiet for a moment, and then he chuckles. “Dear boy, we’re already married. You don’t have to ask.”

”I want to ask,” Crowley mutters, low in his ear. “I want to take you somewhere nice tonight. I want to treat you. I want to spoil you. Will you let me, angel?”

Aziraphale hums. He traces his thumb along the line of Crowley’s well defined cheekbone. “I can hardly say no to you,” he mutters. “And besides— it’s not as though this request of yours is much of a burden.”

”I’ll take you on a date, then,” Crowley sighs happily. “Somewhere you like and I’ll wear something nice and I’ll buy you whatever you want. And afterwards I’ll bring you home and make love to you.”

”You are quite the charmer, aren’t you?” Aziraphale asks.

”Only for you,” Crowley says; he takes Aziraphale’s hand that’s cupping his face and presses a kiss to his wrist. “You’re well worth the effort, dearest. That’s what you are, you’re the dearest thing to me.”

”Sappy,” Aziraphale teases. “Romantic. I might even call you sweet.”

”Call me whatever you like,” Crowley insists, leaning in to kiss him properly.


End file.
